What If? What if England and America switched? America found small little England hiding under a tree in the New World.
Pairing later on the story. Please vote on my poll.
Based on Episode 40 of Hetalia Axis Powers
The air was salty and humid; the sky was almost cloudless with only a couple of streaks of white littering the sky. A blond haired man was standing near edge of the boat, looking at small gray birds flying above him and random pieces of broken branches. He grinned at the wonderful signs of land.
"A-america!" A small stature man ran until he was 4 feet away from the said man. He ran his hair through his light brown hair. "We are expecting to land within an hour."
America turned to the man and nodded. He turned back to the ocean and breathed in the salty air once more before he left to check on his men.
Near them was another boat with America's brother Canada and a little boy named France who kept trying to grope Canada's non existent chest.
America had been walking for over two hours. Confused on where he was going, he noticed Canada, his older brother, on the dirty ground with a child he didn't remember being on the latter's boat.
"W-would you like to come with me and France, eh?" Canada suggested to the child who kept staring at him with his thumb in his mouth, he was slightly, slightly shaking. The said child noticed another man that looked extremely a like with the man in front of him walking towards him. "America?"
"Canada!" America pouted. He put his hands on his hips. His tightly fitted vest's tails flew with the wind, giving him a super hero like feel. "You are trying to get this part of the New World too? I thought you had France!"
America looked at the shaking country and grinned. He squatted down and started motioning the child to come closer. "Come here! Come on! You know to come here!"
The child started at him blankly then glared at the motion America was making. After a couple of seconds he started to cry –it was so planned.
"You are such an idiot America!" Canada warned America like he was his mother. "You're treating him like he was your dog."
The Canadian took out a plate of warm pancakes drowned in maple syrup and freshly cut strawberries. He gave it to the child; the said child happily used his hands to grab the sticky treat. "Wonderful Canadian cuisine awaits you, eh?"
America mouth dropped. He couldn't believe not making that same idea. He turned to the people who was following his usual random walks and pumped his fist. "Dontcha guys have anything?"
The three men looked away from America. One was whistling a random tune, another was playing with his shirt and the other realized the sky was right now an extremely interesting thing to look at. America looked at his shoes with a frown. "I knew it…"
He backed down. "I knew it…" America kept repeating the words to himself. He rolled himself into a ball on the verge of crying until the child looked at him once more.
The child teared up a bit but quickly whipped it with his white sleeve and made a small frown. He walked toward America. Sucking up all his small amount of pride he taunted. "Why you cryin'?"
America looked at the child who was poking his right arm somewhat painfully. "E-eh?"
"I got rejected?" Canada mused. He looked at the rose coloured scene in front of him. Smiling, he walked away from the scene to France who was waiting for him at the shore. "That was unexpected…"
Patting softly on the back his new colony, America looked at the drooping emerald green eyes. "I should give you an official name besides New World…"
Closing his eyes, he remembered how the child looked in his eyes when he first saw him. The child had a forest green cape tied around his neck and was wearing the usual white clothing you would see on a new country with a green bow. The sun was hitting the child's face perfectly, giving the already innocent child, even more an innocent look. Out of no where America thought he had saw two beautiful white wings attached to the child's back. America murmured "Angel… got somethin' to base it off. Let's see…"
He bounced the child on his arms. America muttered a couple of names. But none had felt right for the small child. "England…" America blinked. "England?" The child moved slightly in his arms and gave a content sigh. "England! That's perfect! In German angel is Engel and this is new land. Well then England, that's you name. I'm glad you picked me…" America gave a soft kiss on England's forehead.